Ireland under the Stuarts and During the Interregnum, Vol. 3 (of 3), 1660-1690

by Richard Bagwell

FOOTNOTES:

[204] Sheridan MS. The character in Macariæ Excidium, p. 83, is much to the same effect; O’Kelly and Sheridan both accusing Tyrconnel of favouring the Anglo-Irish and depressing the native Celts. In his memoir, printed at the end of Avaux’s Negotiations, Hugh Balldearg O’Donnell says Tyrconnel was particularly hostile to the Ulster Irish. Light to the Blind, attributed to a Plunket, always praises him. ‘Infiniment vain et fort rusé,’ says Berwick. ‘Talbot s’était dès long-tems porté pour patron des Irlandais opprimés. Ce zèle pour sa nation était fort louable; mais il n’était pas tout-à-fait désinteressé. De tous ceux que son crédit avait fait rétablir dans une partie de leurs biens il avait écorné quelque petite chose; mais comme chacun y trouvait son compte, personne n’y trouvait à redire,’ Mem. de Grammont, chap. ix. Clarendon’s Life, Cont., pp. 929 sqq. Burnet, i. 176, 227, and the Supplement, 255.

Next Talbot must by his great master stand,
Laden with folly, flesh, and ill-got land;
He’s of a size indeed to fill a porch,
But ne’er can make a pillar of the Church.

Marvell’s Advice to a Painter, p. 67.

[205] Burnet, i. 602, information from Halifax himself. Clarendon and Rochester Corr. ‘Colonel MacCarthy’s carriage has been so differing from the others that he has by his great civility recommended himself highly to the affections of the people of Cork, though they are notoriously fanatic.’ Longford to Ormonde, September 7, 1685, in Ormonde Papers, vii. 358. When Boisseleau was governor there he treated the ‘fanatics’ very harshly.

[206] ‘Sarsfield n’est pas un homme de la naissance de Milord Galmoy, ny de Makarty, mais c’est un gentilhomme distingué par son mérite, qui a plus de crédit dans ce royaume qu’aucun homme que je connoisse,’ Avaux to Louvois, October 21, 1689. Berwick married Sarsfield’s widow.

[207] Melfort’s letters, cited in note, p. 142, to O’Callaghan’s Macariæ Excidium. Sheridan MS. Madame de Sévigné, July 1, 1676. For an estimate of Anthony Hamilton, see Sainte-Beuve’s article, Causeries du Lundi, vol. i. For the early adventures of the brothers, see the Mem. de Grammont. Melfort told Avaux that the Tyrconnels had hunted him out of Ireland, ‘pour sauver Antoine et Richard Hamilton, qu’on avait peur qu’il n’accusast.’ Avaux to Louis XIV., August 20/30, 1689. Madame de Lafayette says Anthony was driven from the French Court for making love to the Princesse de Conti, who liked talking to him better than to anyone else. ‘Richard alla mourir chez sa nièce, quoique pauvre elle-même, mais moins pauvre que lui, pour ne pas mourir de faim,’ St. Simon’s addition to Dangeau, December 20, 1717.

[208] A catalogue of the Acts of this Parliament, numbered from 1 to 35, was published in London with an ‘Exact List of the Lords, &c.,’ licensed November 13, 1689. The text of many of them is in a List of Such of the Names, &c., licensed March 26, 1690. The Act of Attainder is in an ‘Account of the Transactions of the late King James in Ireland’, licensed July 7, 1690.

[209] James’s speech to both Houses, published by his order, May 10, and the Parliament’s address in reply are in the appendix to Leslie’s Answer to King. The latter document has no allusion to the King’s pronouncement about the Act of Settlement. A French version of the speech was sent by Avaux to Louis XIV. on May 8/18.

[210] Keating’s address (early in May 1689) is in King’s appendix no. 22 and in other places. Avaux to Louis XIV., May 26/June 5, 1689. King James to Clarendon, April 6, 1686, in Clarendon and Rochester Corres., vol. i. Clarendon to Rochester and to the King, April 17: ‘Your Majesty’s often gracious professions that the Acts of Settlement shall not be touched, does extremely quiet the minds of men,’ ib. Sunderland to Clarendon, June 14, ib. Writing to Rochester on October 12, Clarendon says: ‘In almost every letter I have had the honour to receive from the King he has declared the Acts of Settlement must not be touched, and that he will support the English interest,’ ib. vol. ii. After this date he began to see more clearly, and on January 4 received a copy of the Coventry letter, which left no doubt as to Tyrconnel’s plans, ib. ii. 142.

[211] Avaux to Louis XIV., May 26/June 5, 1689. Journal of the Proceedings of the Parliament in Ireland from May 7 to June 11, and a letter appended carrying the narrative nearly to the end of July, London, licensed July 6, 1689. The journal and letter are reprinted in Somers Tracts as if they had been published separately. There is also a journal by another hand ending May 20, Somers Tracts, xi. 426. Bishop Dopping’s speech, June 4, is in King, appx. no. 23. A True Account of the Present State of Ireland, by a person that with great difficulty left Dublin, June 8, 1689.

[212] The Act of Repeal is in a List of Names, &c., licensed March 26, 1690. Journal of Proceedings, ut sup. Avaux to Louis XIV., May 16/26.

[213] The Act of Attainder is printed from a copy certified by a clerk in the Rolls Office in King’s appendix, published anonymously late in 1691. A List of the Names had already appeared in a pamphlet licensed March 26, 1690. The discrepancies are just such as Paley would have considered proofs of genuineness. For instance, King’s Lieutenant John Newton of Drogheda is St. John Newton in the earlier list, while Katherine, Viscountess Ranelagh, and Anne, Viscountess Dungannon, first appeared as Katherine Vir, Countess of Ranelagh, and Anne Vir, Countess of Donegal. No doubt King’s list is the more trustworthy of the two. In the Transactions of the late King James, licensed July 7, 1690, p. 33, it is noted that some names in the list already published, pp. 30-31, were wrongly added, and this is confirmed by comparing the two pamphlets with King. He believed, and gives good reasons for believing, that the Act was kept hidden away, so that no one could take any advantage under it. See also An Apology for the Protestants of Ireland, dated May 27, 1689, and a Character of the Protestants of Ireland, licensed November 13, 1689.

[214] Chief Justice Keating, who tried hard to keep terms with James, and who even excused Tyrconnel, said he was ‘confident and assured that the Government of England will and must at length take place here against all opposition whatsoever,’ letter to Sir John Temple, December 29, 1688, in King’s appendix no. 14. London Gazette. Luttrell’s Diary, June 2: Keating committed suicide in 1691, Cal. of State Papers, Domestic, October 20, 1691, p. 548; James Reilly’s letter from Poitiers, January 3, 1692, in Spicilegium Ossoriense, ii. 309. In troubled times a man who tries to be impartial is likely to find himself without friends. He had been indicted for high treason and his place given to another, see the article on him in Dict. of National Biography and Luttrell, ii. 139. The treason consisted in taking a commission from King James after February 17, 1688-9.

[215] King says (iii. 13) that Coghlan consulted Vice-Provost Acton, and he may have been guided by Dopping, who was still Vice-Chancellor.

[216] Lestie’s Answer to King, p. 124. Irish Statutes, 14 & 15 Car. II. cap. 23. A Sermon preached to the Protestants of Ireland, &c., London, 1689, dedicated to Pilkington and published at his request. ‘He spoiled his business in Ireland by his over great indulgence towards them. He was infatuated with this rotten principle—provoke not your Protestant subjects,’ Light to the Blind. A Short View of the Methods, &c., by a clergyman lately escaped from thence, licensed October 17, 1689. The writer fled from Vesey’s province of Tuam, and the tract is dedicated to Burnet.

[217] King knew that great reforms were desirable in the Established Church, and he did what he could. But he saw clearly that the great exodus to England would cause fatal jealousies between those who stuck to their duty and those who ran away, Bonnell to Strype, August 5, 1690.

[218] Act 29 for the advancement of trade. Act 21 for excluding English coal. Proclamations of November 24, 1689, against wrecking empty houses, and of November 29 for encouraging the conveyance of coal from Kilkenny. On November 14/24 Avaux writes to Louis XIV., ‘Ce qu’on avait de bois et de charbon pour un écu en coûte quatre, et il faut envoyer bien loin à la campagne pour en pouvoir trouver.’

[219] Journal and a Letter from Dublin, licensed July 6, 1689. True Account of the State of Ireland, 1689. Act 24. List of the Names, &c., licensed March 26, 1689, p. 41. Copies of the orders, &c., in King’s appendix no. 24. Avaux to Louis XIV., February 1/11, 1690. In a report to James dated June 4/14, 1689, Avaux had written: ‘Votre Majesté sait que les sheriffs et les particuliers qu’on employe à la recherche de ces biens sont les premiers à souffrir qu’on les detourne moyennant quelques presens qu’on les fait.’

[220] Acts 19 and 27. Avaux to Louvois, April 6/16, 1689, and the answer, June 13. Writing to Louis on June 30/July 10, Avaux says James ‘a un cœur trop anglais pour se determiner à rien qui puisse chagriner les Anglais, c’est-ce qui arreste l’affaire des laines.’

[221] Light to the Blind, p. 70. ‘By the sitting of this Parliament,’ says John Stevens, p. 70, ‘the army was much damaged and weakened, the King lost the assistance of many of his friends, and gained a vast number of irreconcilable enemies.’ King James, says Colonel O’Kelly, ‘convoked the states of the kingdom, and as if in time of peace and leisure spent in unnecessary consultations the whole summer season, which might be better employed to go on more rigorously with the siege of Londonderry,’ Macariæ Excidium, p. 33. King says it was ‘manifestly against his interest to call a Parliament,’ chap. iii. sec. 12, 5. Besides anything given to Tyrconnel by his private Act, there appear to have been other grants. According to the Sheridan MS., James regretted at St. Germains that he had been tricked into giving him 50,000l. a year while only intending 12,000l. The extreme Irish party, of which Bishop O’Molony was the soul, condemned this Parliament for not repealing Poynings’ Act, Macpherson, i. 339.

[CHAPTER LII]
LONDONDERRY AND ENNISKILLEN, 1689

The siege of Londonderry.

Difficulties of the besiegers.

It was the remark of a brilliant writer that trying to describe the siege of Londonderry after Macaulay was like trying to describe the siege of Troy after Homer. No elaborate copy need be attempted here. The heroism of the defenders it is scarcely possible to exaggerate, but the weakness of the attack was largely responsible for their success. Hamilton had never seen a siege, and Rosen, though an experienced soldier, was wanting in initiative. There was the worst feeling between French and Irish, the latter complaining that the foreigners got all the good appointments, and the former that they were exposed without support. At first Avaux thought the town could not hold out long, but very soon he changed his opinion. On the same day that he wrote to Louis of his hopes, he confided his fears to Louvois. A week later he was in despair. Maumont and Pusignan were killed, with several other French officers. Pointis, who commanded the artillery, was badly wounded. The besieging army was then under 3000 men, and not one musket in ten was serviceable, so that they had to entrench themselves against the attacks of the garrison. Even at the end of May most of the soldiers had no swords. Some carried iron-tipped sticks, and others pike-staffs without heads. In the long June days, the Enniskilleners extended their raids to within forty miles of Dublin, and James sent Rosen to check them. At Trim, where he had been promised four battalions of infantry, a regiment of dragoons, and nearly two regiments of cavalry, he found two battalions, one very badly and the other very indifferently armed. The dragoons did not appear at all, and of cavalry there were but five ill-mounted troops, the men without pistols or carbines, and most of the horses without saddles or bridles. There were some guns, but the shot did not fit, so that only one in six could be fired. Then it was reported that Kirke’s fleet had been seen in Lough Foyle, and Rosen was sent to Londonderry, where he found that there were only thirty pickaxes, and no available cannon, and that the unpaid soldiers were deserting in great numbers. The battering train was throughout inadequate. By the middle of July only five out of thirty-six French gunners were fit for service, and Massé, the chief engineer, was killed while laying a gun, since no artillery officer was to be had. Avaux says Lord Melfort was not sorry for the French officer, who had complained that he was abandoned, and given none of the promised requisites for a siege.[222]

Character of the town.

Baker and Walker governors.

The Londonderry of the siege, standing entirely on the left bank of the Foyle, was nearly oblong in shape, extending about half a mile from north to south, and something less from east to west. It was surrounded by a strong wall without any ditch, having a small bastion at each angle. There were four gates, and in front of the southern, or Bishop’s gate, a slight ravelin had been thrown up by Lundy as his sole contribution to the defence. The besieged had twenty guns, none of them as large as a twelve pounder, and many much smaller. The men bearing arms at the beginning of the siege were over 7000, divided into eight regiments, the total number of people within the walls being thirty thousand. There were about 300 cavalry under Adam Murray’s command. Major Baker and George Walker were chosen joint-governors, both of them being colonels of regiments. According to the accounts hostile to Walker, he was only an assistant in charge of the stores, and no doubt that was his most important duty, but he was commonly called Governor, and always signed first, which can hardly have been without the general consent of those chiefly concerned. Many, perhaps most, of the defenders were Scots Presbyterians, or inclined that way, but sectarian differences were got over while the siege lasted. The Episcopalians had the cathedral in the morning, and the Presbyterians in the afternoon, and sermons did much to keep up the spirit of the garrison. Walker was afterwards accused of preaching in a discouraging tone, but his extant sermons do not sustain this. By the wise connivance of both Baker and Walker, Lundy was allowed to escape in disguise. On April 21 the Jacobites opened fire with one light gun from the right bank of the river, doing little damage, and on the same day the garrison made a sally towards Pennyburn Mill lower down the water, on their own side. The fighting was indecisive, but Maumont fell, perhaps by Murray’s own hand. Two days later Culmore surrendered, thus giving the besiegers the means of preventing relief from the sea. On the 25th, there was another sally in the same direction, and Pusignan received a wound from which he died for want of a surgeon. On May 6 there was a sally towards Windmill Hill, on the south side of the town, to prevent an attack there, and the besiegers suffered severely, Brigadier-General Ramsay, a distinguished Scotch officer, being among the slain. The guns used by the Jacobite army were never of calibre sufficient to damage the wall seriously, and nothing like a breach was made at any time. Three mortars appear to have been used, which killed a few men and did much damage to the houses, but none to the defences. Two hundred and sixty-one shells were thrown in, each weighing 272 pounds, without the charge, and 326 of 34 pounds.[223]

Fight at the windmill.

The fiercest fight during the siege was on June 4. The garrison had dug a ditch, and thrown up a bank across the Windmill Hill, which protected St. Columb’s Wells. These were very important, for the wells inside the walls were made turbid by the constant firing. The windmill itself, which still stands, had been strengthened by earthworks, and two or three small guns were mounted on it. Hamilton ordered nearly all his available infantry and some cavalry to advance against the bank, which for the most part was about twelve feet high. No attempt was made to loosen the newly made work, there were no ladders, and the foot-soldiers were quite unable to surmount the obstacle. They fell fast under the fire of the besieged, whose fowling pieces carried farther than their muskets. Only one-third of the defenders fired at a time, and thus a continuous hail of bullets was kept up. The assailants’ right wing of cavalry was commanded by Colonel Edmund Butler, Lord Mountgarret’s eldest son. He was exceptionally well mounted, and galloped to the top of the bank, which at the waterside did not exceed seven feet. On descending within the enclosure he was at once made prisoner. About thirty men tried to follow, but only two officers jumped successfully, one of whom was killed, the other escaping after his horse had been shot under him. Of the Irish, at least 200 were killed, besides many officers, the besieged only losing one officer and six men.[224]

An English squadron appears,

but is forced to retire.

Schomberg interferes.

Debate in the English Parliament.

Three days after the fight at the windmill, the spirits of the garrison were momentarily raised by the appearance of three English ships. Most of the Irish guns had been moved to the riverside below the town, but the mortar battery was placed in an orchard on the right bank. The frigates exchanged shots with Culmore fort, but the Greyhound took ground, and lay exposed with a heavy list. Even with this advantage the garrison of Culmore could not sink her, but some French gunners were brought up, who made nine good shots out of fourteen. Nevertheless, the vessel got off with the tide, having been hit seventeen times. The experience gained was enough to show that it would not be easy to relieve the town by water. A week later Kirke’s fleet, twenty-six transport and store ships under convoy of four men-of-war, was descried in Lough Foyle, the fighting squadron under Rooke, with Leake among the captains. But a council of war, comprising both naval and military officers, was held on board the Swallow, where, after the manner of such councils, it was unanimously decided that the thing could not be done. There appeared to be a boom across the river, and it was wrongly suspected that boatloads of stones had been sunk in the channel. As soon as the result of the council of war reached the English Government Schomberg gave the order which saved Londonderry. The sunken ships, he said, were only guessed at, and the boom might not be formidable. Kirke was told to get better information, ‘and to consult for that purpose the sea-officers whether it may not be possible to break the boom and chain and to pass with the ships, and that you attempt the doing of it for the relief of the town.’ A considerable reinforcement of horse and foot was at once despatched. In the meantime Kirke seems to have thought that he could relieve Londonderry by land, and he established a post on the Isle of Inch in Lough Swilly, scarcely five miles from the walls, to which the Protestants of the country round flocked for protection. After sending what help he could spare to Enniskillen, Kirke obeyed Schomberg’s orders, and sailed round again to Lough Foyle. The long delay in rescuing the beleaguered city had caused much indignation in England. ‘When I speak for money,’ said Birch, ‘I would lay the fault where it is. I will not talk of account of money now. ’Tis pity these brave fellows in Ireland should be deserted; we are likely to lose those 10,000 brave men, to our shame all the world over.’ The dreaded boom, he added, could probably be cut, and if not, there was nothing to prevent the landing of a relieving army.[225]

Sufferings of the besieged.

The garrison of Londonderry were never short of powder, in spite of the constant firing. The stock of cannon balls failed before the end of June, and the want was supplied by covering pieces of brick with lead so that the size and weight were right, and good practice was made with these rude projectiles. Food soon became scarce, dogs, cats, and rats being readily eaten and sold at high prices. Rations of salted hides were served out and tallow mixed with starch. The latter compound was found to be a cure for dysentery. At the last distribution, before the end of the siege, the allowance for a fighting man was half a pound of meat and a pound and a half of horse flesh. There were no vegetables, of course, and a handful of sea-wrack or chickweed fetched a penny or twopence. Fuel was not much wanted in summer except for cooking, and there was very little to cook, but fires could be made with the roofs shattered by shell-fire. Only eighty soldiers were slain by the enemy, but famine and sickness reduced their number from 7500 to about 4300, of whom more than a fourth were unserviceable. Governor Baker died on the last day of June, after naming Michelburn to succeed him. Murray was shot through both thighs on July 17, and the starving troops had not the advantage of his leadership during their last feeble sallies. The very last was on July 25, when they issued from the Bishop’s Gate and the Butcher’s Gate simultaneously in hopes of driving in some of the enemy’s cattle. They killed many of the besiegers, but caught no cows, and returned as hungry as before, having lost a few men. Starch was found in the pockets of the slain, and one dying soldier said he had nothing else for five days.[226]

Cruel action of Rosen.

Indignation of James.

Conrad De Rosen was a Livonian, and King James had occasion to call him a barbarous Muscovite, but he was a good officer, and was made field-marshal-general. He wrote French well and knew how to behave in good society, but was subject to fits of rage in which he was little better than a madman. As Hamilton made no progress with the siege, Rosen was sent to see what he could do, and he reached the camp on June 20 with his badly armed reinforcements. His arrival gave some encouragement to the besieging army, which was on the point of dispersing spontaneously. He devoted himself to strengthening the force for guarding the river, and at the same time tried to push approaches up to Butcher’s Gate with a view to blowing it in. His men got so near that the garrison drove them off with stones. The weather was very wet and the ditches filled with water which was kept back by the high tide, so that it was found impossible to work in them. When he heard Rosen’s report, Avaux had little hope of the town being taken. But Kirke was daily expected to attempt something, and Hamilton made an effort to do by treaty what he could not do by force. The town was summoned to surrender on such terms as might be agreed on, with a general promise that there should be no distinction made between Catholic and Protestant. Protection was offered to all, and favour to those who would serve King James. It was particularly insisted that Rosen had no power to interfere concerning the siege, that he was sent only to stop the English succours, and that ‘all conditions and parleys’ depended on Hamilton, who had power to grant such articles as he thought fit. In spite of all this, Rosen took everything into his own hands three days later. He issued a declaration requiring the garrison to accept Hamilton’s terms within twenty-four hours, and to send hostages. Failing this, all the men, women, and children of their party (cabale), whether under protection or not, from Enniskillen to Charlemont, and from Charlemont to the sea, should be driven under the walls, without any provisions or shelter. The garrison might admit them if they liked, otherwise they would have the pain of seeing the death by starvation of their ‘fathers, mothers, wives, children, brothers, sisters, and, in short, all their relations, for not one single one shall be left at home, and they shall have nothing to eat.’ Those who had taken refuge in towns were to be turned out and driven along with the rest. Orders to this effect were at once sent to the commandants at Coleraine, Antrim, Carrickfergus, Belfast, Dungannon, Charlemont, Belturbet, and Sligo, and to the Duke of Berwick, who had a flying column on the Enniskillen side. All mills and houses belonging to the rebels and their adherents were to be burned, all horses and cattle driven off or killed; so that if English troops were to land they would find only a desert. On the same day Rosen wrote to inform King James of what he had done and meant to do. James at once replied that he should have been informed of the Marshal’s plan beforehand, and that he thoroughly disapproved of it, though he had no objection to ravaging the country for military reasons. He positively ordered commanding officers to disobey the Marshal except in that one particular, and to send back to their homes all who had already suffered. He had promised protection to all who lived peacefully, and they should have it. Rosen, who cared nothing for His Majesty’s favour, rejoined that he was much too full of benevolence to rebels, who were thus encouraged in their insolence. James was greatly annoyed at his word being broken and at the General’s presumption in acting without his orders. Avaux tried to plead that the time had been too precious to stand upon ceremony, and that neither he nor Rosen had official knowledge of the King’s promises, but he admits that his arguments had no effect. Melfort, who could not lose such an opportunity of annoying the ambassador, said that if the Marshal had been the King of England’s subject he would have been hanged. ‘I found the expression very strong,’ said Avaux, ‘but made no answer, for the King was already very angry.’[227]

Determination of the besieged.

Rosen may have hoped to frighten the town into surrender without carrying out all his threats. If so, he was completely mistaken. In the evening of Monday, July 1, about 200 victims were gathered under the walls and a thousand more appeared in the morning. Many of these had been living peaceably under the King’s protection. Throughout that day and the next the number increased, being brought in from the surrounding country. It does not appear that Rosen’s orders were fully carried out in more distant parts, probably because of James’s action. Even before the King’s letter arrived the Marshal saw that his bolt had missed, and had merely furnished the garrison with an irrefutable argument. They erected a gallows on the south-western bastion, and warned the prisoners, who had hitherto been very kindly treated, to prepare for instant death. There were twenty of them, and they appealed to Hamilton, who gave them no comfort but the assurance that their deaths should be revenged on many thousands of people, innocent or guilty, both within and without the city. As to the proposals for capitulation, the governors said that they could not trust the besiegers, Rosen’s manifesto being inconsistent with Hamilton’s suggestions. Besides, the latter’s commission was dated May 1, since which a Parliament had sat in which their lives and estates were forfeited. Meanwhile neither the besieged nor the starving people outside had any thoughts of surrender. On the fourth day Rosen allowed the victims of his scheme to return to their devastated homes, and King James renewed Hamilton’s commission. A few of the strongest outside slipped into the town, and many of the weakest within seized the chance of escape. The governors thought their food would not last beyond July 26, and might have yielded if time had been given to that day, but it was refused, and all negotiations came to naught. Help did not come until after the last ration of famine-fare had been served out.[228]

The town relieved by sea.

From the time that Kirke appeared upon the coast until the end of the siege there were many attempts to establish communications. Daily signals were made from the cathedral and answered from the ships, but were not well understood on either side, though it seems, from the account of Captain James Roche, that there was so much of a preconcerted code as enabled him to tell Kirke how many more days the town could hold out. Roche was induced by the promise of 3000 guineas to carry a letter, and this he succeeded in doing, by swimming under great difficulties; but even he could not get back, and had to stay till the end. Another messenger was drowned, and a third taken and hanged. A little boy afterwards succeeded in bringing a letter. The investment was very close, but the besiegers gave up any hope of succeeding except by starvation, and Kirke’s chief advice by Roche was to husband the provisions. On July 20 Hamilton held a council at which six generals attended, all of whom agreed with him that the town could only be taken by famine. Rosen was in bed, and disclaimed all responsibility, saying that he was always against the siege, and that his advice had been slighted. The guns, said the others, were quite insufficient, and the besiegers had suffered so much that they were not numerically superior to the besieged. On Saturday, July 27, the day of Killiecrankie, Captain Ash wrote in his diary, ‘Next Wednesday is our last, if relief not does arrive before it.’ About six in the evening of the day following that on which these despairing words were written, three ships were seen coming up the Foyle. They proved to be the Dartmouth, of forty guns, commanded by John Leake, the Mountjoy, under Micaiah Browning, a native of Londonderry, and the Phœnix of Coleraine, under Andrew Douglas. If we consider what Rooke and Leake did together in after years, we may believe that they would have made the attack much sooner, but they were under Kirke’s orders, and he was a landsman. The Dartmouth anchored opposite Culmore and engaged the fort, the man-of-war having probably better guns, and certainly better gunners. Meanwhile the two merchant-ships, accompanied by boats from the fleet, sailed or were towed up to the boom, at each end of which a fort had been built. The boats’ crews hacked at the obstacle, and before it was quite cleared the Mountjoy struck against its timbers, and went ashore. A shout of triumph went up from the Irish army, and the hearts of the men on the wall sank. But a gap had been made and the Phœnix passed up to the Quay. The larger vessel—her burden was only 135 tons—used what guns she had, and the concussion, joined to the rising tide, soon brought her off, but not before her brave captain had been killed by a cannon-ball. He died, says Macaulay, ‘by the most enviable of all deaths, in the sight of the city which was his birthplace, which was his home, and which had just been saved by his courage and self-devotion from the most frightful form of destruction.’[229]

Cost of the siege.

The Phœnix carried three or four thousand bushels of Scotch meal, the Mountjoy was laden with biscuit, cheese, pork, and pease, and as Hamilton’s only hope was in famine, the siege was virtually over. It lasted 105 days, and cost some 15,000 lives, more from fever and starvation than from wounds. The mortality among the women and among those who were too old or too young to fight was far greater than among the soldiers. Michelburne lost his wife and all his children. For two days the Irish continued to fire from their trenches, but they were preparing to go. Everything within reach was destroyed, and on the night of July 31 they set fire to their camp and marched off to Strabane. Some of the late besieged, who had no horses, attempted pursuit, but the Irish rearguard turned on them and killed seven men. The battle of Newtown Butler was fought on the day that the siege was raised, and when the news reached Strabane, Hamilton’s army retired, abandoning their guns, and burning everything until they got near Charlemont. Avaux reported that they were completely ruined, and that the double disaster had demoralised the Irish everywhere.[230]

Defence of Enniskillen.

Repulse of Galmoy.

While Londonderry was beset Enniskillen kept her assailants at arm’s length. The north-east side was protected by the garrisons left by Lord Kingston in Donegal and Ballyshannon, but on the north-west Sarsfield had a good force of Connaught men at Sligo and Manor Hamilton, and in June he fixed a camp at Bundrowes, where the waters of Lough Melvin reach the sea. To the south, Colonel Crichton maintained Crom Castle. The Protestants living in the open country knew that they had nothing to expect from Lundy, who had ordered the evacuation of Dungannon, and done what he could to prevent Enniskillen from resisting. All the help he gave the defenders was five barrels of powder and some old gun-barrels, which they managed to fix with locks and stocks. They had no other ammunition for months, except what they took from the enemy. In March Lord Galmoy with a strong force approached Enniskillen and on March 30 the defenders saw the Protestants of Cavan pouring in. First came some horse and foot, then ‘the whole inhabitants with their women and children to their middle in clay and dirt, with pitiful lamentations, and little or no provision to sustain them.’ They did their best to persuade the Enniskilleners to fly with them to Londonderry. After two days’ rest they were told that if the men went the women and children should be turned out. Some remained with their families, but the majority went on. Galmoy came as far as Belturbet, whence he sent a party to besiege Crom. He had no battering guns, but made a show with two pieces consisting of tinplates covered with buckram, and bound round with whipcord. A wooden ball was fired from one of these machines, which quickly burst, and did not frighten the garrison, who were soon strengthened by a detachment from Enniskillen, conveyed partly in boats. Galmoy advanced as far as Lisnaskea, but drew back towards Crom on the approach of the whole Enniskillen force. The men in the castle and those who came by road then attacked the Irish simultaneously, and Galmoy retired with loss to Belturbet, leaving his buckram batteries behind him.[231]

Galmoy’s cruelty.

At Cavan, on his passage northwards, Galmoy captured Captain Dixie, son of the Dean of Kilmore, whom he was anxious to exchange for an officer named Maguire, a prisoner at Crom. This was agreed to, and Maguire was given up accordingly, but Galmoy nevertheless tried Dixie and another by court-martial and ordered them to be hanged. Their heads were then cut off, and kicked about like footballs. This atrocious act satisfied the Protestants that no faith would be kept with them, and added much to the bitterness of the struggle. Maguire was so much disgusted at the use to which he had been put that he resigned his commission.[232]

Exploits of Colonel Lloyd.

The Break of Belleek.

A month after the attack on Crom the Enniskilleners, now reinforced by many of Lord Kingston’s men, set out, under Lloyd’s command, to prevent a Jacobite garrison from being established at Trillick. Having succeeded in this, they made a like expedition to Augher, and returned by Clones, which they found burned. A great many cattle were driven off, and during the whole time that Londonderry was starving, Enniskillen enjoyed plenty. So successful were the foragers that a milch cow could sometimes be bought for eighteenpence, and a dry one for sixpence. When horses were caught, they were used to bring in foodstuffs and fodder. Two days after their return from the raid into Tyrone, Lloyd’s men were again engaged. A large body from Connaught attacked Ballyshannon, and the relieving force met them at Belleek. Lough Erne was on one hand and a great bog on the other. Lloyd provided his troopers with faggots to make a causeway, but a guide suddenly offered himself and showed them a sound passage. The Irish were routed, and near 200 of their horse slain. Sixty men whom they left in the fish-island at Ballyshannon were taken, but the rest of the foot made their way through bogs back to Sligo. The Enniskilleners did not lose a man. This affair is known in history as the ‘Break of Belleek.’ Before the end of May, Lloyd, with something over 1500 men, attacked and took Redhill and Ballinacargy in Cavan, and penetrated as far as Kells in Meath, only thirty miles from Dublin, returning with 5000 head of cattle and sheep, and 500 horses laden with provisions. The small garrison of Trillick were equally successful in an attack on Omagh, and the horses of three troops were surprised and led away.

Attempt to relieve Londonderry.

Victory at Belturbet.

So great was the reputation of the Enniskilleners that Dublin was hardly considered safe, their numbers being, of course, enormously over-estimated. The besiegers of Londonderry were throughout hampered by their fear of them, and Berwick with a flying column was constantly occupied in trying to keep them at a distance. Governor Hamilton resolved to relieve the beleaguered city if possible, but the expedition was mismanaged. It was food, and not men, that the defenders wanted, whereas the relieving party did not take enough even for themselves. They occupied Omagh, but Lord Clancarty was reported to be on his way, and Sarsfield being at Manor Hamilton, it was feared that the unfinished fort at Enniskillen might be attacked. The expedition was accordingly given up, though some thought that it might have succeeded if Lloyd had been in command. Immediately after his return, Hamilton had news that Brigadier Sutherland was at Belturbet with a daily increasing force, but the Jacobite general promptly retreated even before Lloyd appeared with his dragoons. The garrison was easily overcome, 300 becoming prisoners with their arms and 700 muskets which had been stored for the use of a newly raised regiment. Two barrels of much-needed powder were also taken, with fifty troop-horses, and enough red coats to dress two companies. Two hundred able men were kept to work at the unfinished citadel. Thirteen officers were detained, but the rest of the prisoners with the women and children were allowed to go free.[233]

Kirke in Lough Swilly.

Defeat at Trillick.

Arrival of Wolseley.

A fortnight after the affair at Belturbet, news was brought to Enniskillen of Kirke’s arrival in Lough Swilly. Communications were opened with him at once, and he promised thirty barrels of powder and the help of some officers. Before they came, Berwick crossed the Barnesmore Gap and attacked Donegal, where Lord Kingston had left a garrison. He burned the town, but could not take the castle, and afterwards joined Sutherland at Trillick. He was attacked by Governor Hamilton, Lloyd having gone to meet Kirke, and here the Enniskilleners suffered their only serious check, losing fifty men killed, and as many prisoners. On July 28, a fortnight afterwards, the officers sent by Kirke reached Enniskillen by water, under the command of Lieut.-Col. William Wolseley, whose Protestant zeal was well known. He brought acting commissions for two regiments of cavalry and three of infantry, a supply of powder, 1600 muskets and firelocks, and eight field-pieces. On the very evening of his arrival, Wolseley learned that MacCarthy had come before Crom, where there were no cannon, with a considerable army and with eight guns, not made of buckram. Next day, being July 30, every available man was brought up from Ballyshannon, and Colonel Berry, the second in command, was sent on as far as Lisnaskea, MacCarthy raising the siege as he drew near.

MacCarthy threatens Enniskillen.

Early in the morning of July 31, Berry, after spending the night in the open, moved forward as far as the little village of Donagh, where his scouts brought word that MacCarthy was advancing. He drew back accordingly through Lisnaskea, and took up a position among the marshes near the Colebrooke River. Some of his troopers, who had behaved badly in the fight near Trillick, now swore to support him, and they kept their word. The enemy consisted of thirteen companies of dragoons under Anthony Hamilton, who dismounted his men when they got into the difficult ground. The Enniskilleners were skilfully posted, and much the better shots, so that when the Jacobite dragoons were withdrawn, their retreat rapidly changed into a headlong flight. Berry’s horsemen followed them through Lisnaskea and for a mile beyond, taking thirty prisoners and killing two hundred men. Hamilton himself was badly wounded. At the approach of MacCarthy’s main army, the victors drew back to Lisnaskea before nine o’clock, and waited for Wolseley, who was coming to their rescue with all his available forces. Of the two roads to Lisnaskea, Berry had taken that to the right, Wolseley that to the left, and they met at the junction at about eleven o’clock.[234]

Victory of Newtown Butler.

Wolseley had left Enniskillen in a great hurry and without provisions. He had, therefore, no choice but to fight or to fall back, for Sarsfield was at Bundrowes, and might attack Enniskillen in his absence. The men were consulted, and all decided to advance. Beyond Donagh the two armies came in sight of one another. The first encounter was in crossing a bog with a paved causeway through the middle. Apparently MacCarthy intended only a reconnaissance at this point, for he retired after some skirmishing without bringing his guns into action. The Jacobites kept their ranks through Newtown Butler, and set fire to the town as they left it. About a mile beyond there was another causeway through a bog. The position was strongly held by infantry, who nearly all fought under cover, but failed to stem the advance of Wolseley’s foot. The causeway was swept by cannon, which at first prevented his cavalry from moving, though the practice was so bad that no one was hurt. At last the wings under Lloyd and Tiffen got up to the guns and killed the gunners, who resisted bravely. The causeway was then cleared, and the Enniskillen horse advanced very quickly without much attempt at order. The Jacobite cavalry, posted on rising ground, made no attempt to charge, but galloped away towards Cavan. When they had ridden their horses to death, they threw away their arms and clothes so as to run faster. The infantry scattered among the bogs in the direction of Wattle Bridge, where great numbers were killed. Of 500 who took to the water all but one man were drowned. When King James heard the news he nearly took the advice of Melfort, who wished him to retire to Rathfarnham, where he would be safe from the Dublin Protestants, but Tyrconnel, Nugent, and Rice persuaded him that he was in no danger, and that to leave the capital without a garrison might cause an insurrection, in which many good Catholics would perish.[235]

MacCarthy a prisoner.

Retreat of Sarsfield.

Deserted by all but his own troop, MacCarthy made a desperate attack on the infantry who guarded the captured guns, but he soon fell covered with wounds. He was taken to Enniskillen, where he was very well treated, as Avaux testifies, and King James sent a doctor and a surgeon with wine and other luxuries. There were over 300 prisoners, most of whom were afterwards employed by Kirke to clean and repair the rescued but almost ruined city of Londonderry. The unfortunate runaways were mercilessly killed among the reeds and bushes. The pursuit lasted all night, and no quarter was given until the morning. The victors excused this bloody work as a natural revenge for Lord Galmoy’s perfidy. Avaux reported that a regiment of dragoons and three battalions of infantry had almost entirely disappeared. When MacCarthy was taken, a letter from Sarsfield was found in his pocket saying that he was encamped at Bundrowes and ready to attack Enniskillen on the west if MacCarthy and Berwick would attack it on the east. The French ambassador thought it much more likely that the garrison would crush the three armies in succession; and, in fact, Wolseley lost no time in marching towards Bundrowes, but Sarsfield, as soon as he heard of the rout at Newtown Butler, broke up his camp and retreated to Sligo. Berwick, who was threatening Donegal, also retired at the news, and effected an exchange of prisoners. Those who returned to Enniskillen had seen Hamilton’s ruined army march away from Londonderry. They had no wish to meet another victorious garrison, and Wolseley’s scouts saw their rearguard pass through Castle Caulfield, so that pursuit was impossible. One regiment of cavalry, two of dragoons, and three of infantry were formed from the defenders of Enniskillen. Of these Cunningham’s became the Inniskilling Dragoons, famous at Waterloo and on many other fields, and Tiffen’s grew into the Inniskilling Fusiliers. The fame of these troops was great in their own day, and when a London regiment made a loyal address to Queen Mary shortly before the Boyne, Tories and Jacobites called them Inniskillings in derision, while good Whigs hoped that they would be found such.[236]

Kirke at Londonderry.

Walker in England.

Tangier was a bad school, and Kirke showed during the Monmouth insurrection that he had learned its lessons only too well. Very little credit was due to him personally, but he treated Londonderry like a conquered city. The late garrison was made into regiments, and the claims of some who had done much were ignored. But Michelburn, who had served under him in Africa, was continued as Governor, and Walker, who hastened to get rid of his military character, was sent to London with the news and an address from the defenders to King William. While he was on his way, William’s letter of thanks and congratulation arrived addressed to the Governors, for only the bare facts of the relief had then reached London. Kirke filled up the blanks with the names of ‘George Walker and John Michelburn, Esquires.’ Walker travelled by way of Scotland, receiving the freedom of Glasgow and Edinburgh. Sir Robert Cotton, the great antiquary’s son, drove out as far as Barnet to meet him, and crowds followed him in the streets. He was presented to the King, who gave him 5000l., which was paid next day, adding that that was only a small part of what he owed him. On receiving the thanks of the House of Commons he made little of his own services. At William’s request Cambridge agreed to make him a Doctor of Divinity, but he did not go there to receive the degree. At Oxford, which he visited on his return journey in company with Archbishop Vesey, the same distinction was conferred on him in convocation as the defender of Londonderry, ‘and by that fact, as we hope, the preserver and avenger of all Ireland.’ In London, says Luttrell, he was caressed by all sorts of people, and entertained at dinner, and has the character of a very modest person.’ Tillotson said his modesty was equal to his merit, and that everyone was pleased at hearing that he was to be made a bishop. He spent about six months in England, exerting himself to obtain rewards and recognition for those who had suffered by the siege, not forgetting the services of the seven dissenting ministers.[237]

Burnet on the siege.

Walker’s True Account.

Mackenzie’s Narrative.

After giving a slight sketch of the events at Londonderry, Burnet originally wrote that ‘there was a minister in the place, Dr. Walker, who acted a very noble part in the government and defence of the town; he was but a man of ordinary parts, but they were suited to this work, for he did wonders in this siege.’ In the published history this was left out, and Macaulay was at a loss to explain the omission. Swift and Routh both blame the Bishop for not mentioning Walker. The explanation is not, however, far to seek. Burnet, writing in the summer of 1691, agreed with his friend Tillotson, and with society generally, in giving a lion’s share of credit to Walker, but he pretended to no exact knowledge of Irish affairs, and when the time came to publish his work he remembered that the late governor had detractors who were chiefly Scotch Presbyterians, remaining dissenters in Ulster, but established in the Bishop’s own country. He therefore prudently decided not to mention any individual hero, but to praise the resolution of the defenders generally. In other respects the revised narrative gained in accuracy what it lost in picturesqueness. Walker wrote an account of the siege, and published it by request soon after his arrival in London. It was done in a hurry, and to meet a pressing want—that the demand was great is shown by the three extant editions bearing date 1689, and by the translations into Dutch and German. Walker was soon attacked for claiming too great a share in the siege, for giving less praise than was due to Murray and others, and, above all, for not naming the seven dissenting ministers whose good service he had acknowledged. He then published a Vindication, saying that he did not know the names which he was accused of suppressing, and supplying the omission after inquiry. Some months later, when Walker had returned to Ireland, the Rev. John Mackenzie, who had been through the siege, published a more detailed pamphlet, declaring, among other things, that Walker was never governor, and giving nearly all the glory to the Presbyterians. Candid readers will not agree, but Mackenzie added largely to the facts recorded and is historically very valuable. His narrative is, however, dull reading compared to Walker’s account and the public had had enough of the subject. There were several minor publications connected with this quarrel. We can only regret with the very prosaic poet who wrote the Londeriad that the union between Protestants which danger produced should have passed away with it.[238]